She let the silence stretch, let them wonder just how far she was willing to go. Her hand hovered near her jacket, just close enough to hint at the weight beneath it.
“Last chance,” she said, voice low and steady. “Turn around, walk out of here, and pretend you never found this place. Or stay—and find out what happens when you push people who’ve got nothing left to lose.”
They hesitated.
Just long enough for Diamond to know they weren’t walking away.
Carla’s ex lunged first, swinging the pipe in a wide arc meant to intimidate—but Diamond wasn’t new to this game. She stepped in, not back, ducking low as the pipe whistled over her shoulder. Her fist connected with his ribs, sharp and fast, then again harder. He stumbled, choking on air.
Behind her, Sayer grunted, blocking a blow from the second man with his forearm before driving his knee into the guy’s gut. The man came up with a large knife swinging wildly. The tip sliced across Sayer’s abdomen. It didn’t stop him from tackling the guy to the ground. His head hit something covered by old straw, blood ran into his eye, but he kept punching the attacker in the face until the metal pipe clattered to the ground.
Diamond didn’t wait. She drew her weapon—not to shoot, not yet—but to remind them exactly who they were dealing with. She aimed it squarely at Carla’s ex as he straightened, gasping.
“Try again,” she said, voice cold. “I dare you.”
His eyes flicked to the gun. He hesitated, wiped blood from his mouth, then spat on the ground.
“This isn’t over.”
“No,” Diamond said. “It really is.”
Sayer scrambled to his feet, kicked the second man’s pipe across the floor, out of reach. “What now?”
Diamond kept the gun raised, steady. “We make sure they don’t follow us again.”
Diamond didn’t lower the gun until both men had backed off, chests heaving, mouths full of curses they weren’t brave enough to say aloud.
She took a step back to breathe but froze when she glanced over her shoulder.
Blood.
Dark and spreading across Sayer’s side, soaking through his shirt.
“Sayer—” her voice caught, sharper than she meant it to be.
“I’m fine,” he said through gritted teeth, but the way he leaned against the wall said otherwise.
Her grip tightened on the gun.
They didn’t have time for this. They couldn’t risk these two getting loose or calling someone else in, and she couldn’t leave Sayer like that, bleeding and barely staying upright.
Diamond turned, pressing the gun into his hand. “You hold them,” she said, voice low but firm. “You don’t hesitate if they move. Not even an inch.”
Sayer took the weapon without question, his jaw clenched tight. He didn’t argue, didn’t posture. He just nodded once.
Diamond crouched and dragged one of the loose zip ties from the rig’s exterior bin, then another, working fast and rough as she restrained the first man’s wrists behind his back. The second was already trying to crawl for his pipe until Sayer cocked the gun, slow and deliberate.
“Don’t.”
The man froze.
Diamond moved to him next, heart pounding, every nerve on edge. The blood. The silence. The weight of all of it.
“You okay?” she asked Sayer without looking up.
“I will be,” he said. “Long as you finish this fast.”
Once both men were zip-tied and groaning on the floor, they grabbed them by the collars—one at a time—and dragged them toward the back of the barn. There was an old horse stall still intact, the door hanging slightly off its hinges, but it would hold long enough.
